


Paint and Guitarrón

by Bang Bang Beef Keef (BangBangBeefKeef)



Series: Klance Request Line Series [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Artist Keith (Voltron), Artist/Muse AU, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Keith gets too invested in his art, Lance is a horny baby, M/M, Mild Daddy Kink, Muse Lance, Nude Modeling, Sugar Daddy, Top Keith (Voltron), Window Sex, nude model lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BangBangBeefKeef/pseuds/Bang%20Bang%20Beef%20Keef
Summary: Keith is completely in love with Lance and he loves painting him. Lance loves being painted by Keith, but he loves sex more. If only he could grab his boyfriend's attention...
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Klance Request Line Series [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081907
Comments: 23
Kudos: 306
Collections: Klance: Into the Multiverse, Klasix Master Collection





	Paint and Guitarrón

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DMBatty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMBatty/gifts).



> Gift work for DMBatty aka @MarleyD1015 on Twitter! Hope you Enjoy it!
> 
> xoxoxoBBBK

“I know that face.” Lance’s words cut into Keith’s deep concentration.

“I’m not making a face,” lies Keith.

“Wrong. You always are. What do you think Resting Bitch Face is, Keith?” Honestly he isn’t sure, but Lance calls him out on it a lot. “But you’re not making that one this time. No, this time you’re making your ‘Is this piece finished or should I work another twenty hours on it?’ And as your model, I say, yes! It is done! Please stop painting!”

“In a minute,” says Keith, spotting another section he remembers he wanted to revisit.

“See, you think it’s a minute, but you actually dissociate from reality while you paint and next time you look up, that window will be dark.”

Keith smirks, he doesn’t even look away from his canvas towards the cracked window blowing a gentle breeze against his back. Eventually he would notice how cold he’d gotten when the night hit and that breeze got chilly. “I’ll be quick.”

“You won’t and you won’t be aware that you aren’t,” sighs Lance.

“You’ll remind me.”

“I’m reminding you now,” says Lance. “You have a gorgeous boyfriend who is extremely horny and hasn’t been fucked in days because you’re more interested in painting him than fucking him.” Lance is indeed what Keith’s painting. What he’s always painting really… and for the past several days he’s been patiently posing for Keith.

“I love fucking you,” says Keith, “But it takes considerably less time than painting you.”

“And yet, even though it’s a quick activity, I have not been fucked.”

“Well, I need you to hold still.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this,” says Lance. “I think you should rearrange your priorities and spend more time fucking me than painting me.”

Keith actually laughs at this. “I need to paint you to make money. Fucking you pays nothing, last I checked.”

“You’ve made enough money,” says Lance, moving his arm to gesture around their loft. “Just look at this place.”

“This place is a rental,” says Keith. “And management rudely expects to be paid every month. Also, put your arm back where it was.”

Lance rolls his eyes and drops his arm back to the spot where Keith had posed him, laid out like a renaissance lady on sheets and cushions with one sheet in particular keeping him modest and tastefully nude.

“I never minded your old place,” he says

“It had the toilet in the kitchen!” argues Keith. And the only reason he spent less time paining was because he had a day job.

It’s all coming back to Keith now… the cramped apartment… the bad delivery job he worked on his scooter, making him permanently smell like exhaust fumes… and the first time he laid eyes on Lance. It was a similar view to this one, but instead of peeking over a canvas, Keith saw him over the drawing board he was holding...

_ He’d been doing life drawing classes several times a week for years, so seeing a nude model was a complete yawn at this point. Keith remembered it was winter and he’d arrived late for this particular class so he was still unwrapping the unreasonably long scarf his brother had given him for his birthday while the instructor explained they’d be starting with a warmup of thirty second poses.  _

_ Keith liked quick poses. He was good at capturing the essence of a pose with a few thick lines of charcoal. It was the longer poses where he tended to get overwhelmed by details. He was confident he’d nail this part and with that confidence, he picked up his charcoal stick and looked up at the model for the very first time (despite him having been sitting there since he’d walked in.) _

_ Brown freckled skin, soft blue eyes, short brown hair, and a radiating feeling of joy. This was true beauty in front of him. _

_ He was stunned and will forever say it was akin to love at first sight. He was so captivated by the person he saw before him, several pose changes went by without Keith putting a single mark on the page. _

_ His instructor had to come over and whisper, “Is something wrong?” to remind Keith where he was. _

_ The thing was, nothing was wrong. In fact, that’s when things started to go right. _

_ Now, that doesn’t mean everything went right. Not right away… If that makes sense. _

_ His instructor was not one to introduce the model so Keith never caught a name and he was gone before Keith had a chance.  _

_ Keith started coming to that class as many days a week he could fit in, hoping to see the model that had so captivated him. After weeks of rotating through the usual models, Keith walked in one day to see the same handsome model. He was so distracted, he walked right into a pottery wheel, drawing everyone’s attention and earned him a giggle from the model himself. _

_ During the class, Keith felt like the model angled himself towards him, though he couldn’t be sure. It’s not like their eyes ever met, but that would be unprofessional. _

_ When the class ended, the model slipped on a robe and headed towards the backroom. Scared of missing his chance again, Keith left all his drawing stuff and jogged to cut the guy off. _

_ “Hey, um,” said Keith, noticing his instructor heading that way with a stern look on her face. “I’m realizing now this is creepy and inappropriate, but -” _

_ “Yes,” said the model, cutting him off. _

_ “Yes, it’s creepy and inappropriate?” _

_ “Yes, you can take me to dinner,” he said, with a smile. “There’s a place down the street if you’re free right now.” _

_ “Yeah, let’s - uh - I - let’s go,” Keith stuttered.  _

_ “Actually, I’m going to get dressed first. Meet me outside?” _

_ “Dressed sounds great,” said Keith. _

_ “Is he bothering you?” asked the instructor. _

_ “Oh no,” said the model. “This person -” _

_ “Keith,” said Keith, realizing he never introduced himself. _

_ “- Keith is not bothering Lance, who is me.” _

_ Lance… what a great name! _

_ In all truthfulness, the date was a disaster. The restaurant down the street turned out to be a Mexican restaurant (leading Keith to mistake Lance as Mexican for the next several weeks.) Keith broke the Matrix by ordering tacos without cheese (no way he was letting his lactose intolerance ruin this date.) Keith’s phone rang about forty times during dinner (it was his work since he’d blown off a shift to go on this date, not having the mental capabilities to suggest to Lance they plan for a time he wasn’t supposed to be working.) But at least the conversation went well… _

_ Haha no it didn’t! _

_ Well, it might’ve if Keith had been able to hear it. The restaurant had a mariachi band that seemed to approach their table at the most inopportune times like anytime the conversation started to get going.  _

_ “I wonder if they’d leave us alone if we tipped them,” Lance had said with a good humoured laugh. _

_ This is the point at which Keith realized he’d left his bag with his wallet in the art studio.... The studio that would be locked for the night at this time of day… Then he had to spend the rest of the dinner dreading the moment he’d have to confess to Lance that he can’t pay for the meal. _

_ “Do you know  _ _ Hermoso cariño?” Lance asked, pulling a five dollar bill from his wallet and handing it to the band leader. _

_ The band launched into a song too loud for Keith to speak over. Later, when they’d finished, Keith stumbled through his confession of forgetting his wallet and before he could apologize, the mariachi band burst into life again! _

_ Lance gave Keith a little wave then paid the bill.  _

_ They walked out of the restaurant together, Keith silently stewing in the knowledge that he’d completely blown this date and maybe even gotten fired (later he confirmed the latter.) _

_ “I’m really sorry for making you pay,” said Keith, finally safe from being interrupted by a mariachi band. “I can transfer you the money for the meal right now. That is… if you trust me with your information.” _

_ “How about I give you my phone number,” said Lance with a smile. _

_ “So I can send you a direct deposit link?” _

_ “So you can ask me out again for this weekend,” said Lance. “And you’ll pay this time.” Keith couldn’t believe his luck that he was going to get another chance with this guy! “Maybe pick a restaurant that’s less dairy-obsessed.” _

_ That Saturday Keith had taken Lance out for Chinese food (which led Lance to believe Keith was Chinese for the next several weeks.) The place was quiet, meaning they could hold an actual conversation. Mostly they talked about all the terrible things that had gone wrong on the first date.  _

_ “I can’t believe you’ve seen me naked twice and not paid for dinner once,” joked Lance. _

_ “I’m sorry,” said Keith, apologizing for the millionth time. “I quadruple checked I had my wallet this time.” _

_ “Maybe you can pay me back in art,” suggested Lance. “I’ve always wanted a shrine of myself.” _

_ “Sure, I have lots of time to draw now that I’m unemployed. Though I may need that time to look for work.” _

_ “Here’s a thought,” said Lance, “Why don’t you work as an artist?” _

_ “Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” said Keith, sarcastically. _

_ “You’re leaving money on the table, I’m telling you. You’re destined for greatness.” _

_ “You haven’t even seen my art,” said Keith, “so you don’t know what you’re talking about.” _

_ “Yeah, I have, dude! I cyberstalked you. Hard. I’ve seen your Twitter. I’ve seen you instagram,” said Lance, listing things off on his fingers, but bending down the fingers out of order. “I’ve even seen your Deviantart.” _

_ Keith cringed. “I thought I deactivated that account…” _

_ “Lotta furry art,” said Lance, “and I gotta tell you, I was into it.” _

_ Keith laughed. “It’s definitely a positive that you like my art, but almost no one makes it as an artist so it was a mistake to quit my day job, or rather, ghost on my shift… more than once…” _

_ “Prediction,” said Lance, laying his fingertips daintily on the table. “You are going to be a rising star in the art world and very soon.” _

_ “I appreciate you believing in me, but -” _

_ “No, buts!” said Lance. “And I’m not believing, I’m predicting. I’m a little bit psychic, ya know?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “What level of psychic is ‘a little bit psychic?’” _

_ “I’d say I’m one level up from a fortune cookie,” said Lance, lifting up one of the plastic encased cookies from beside his plate. _

_ That second date was a hundred times better than the first date. Because of that, as they rode the subway back to midtown, Keith began to memorize Lance’s lips. The car they were in didn’t have two seats together so they stood, holding onto a pole, body’s rocking in tandem with the motion of the train. Lance had such beautiful lips with one dark freckle just above the right peak of his cupid’s bow.  _

_ Keith had been committing that freckle to memory so he could draw Lance’s face the moment he gets back from his date and capture all the subtle details he couldn’t see from sitting so far back in life drawing class, when Lance said, “Are you thinking about kissing me?” _

_ The train had just stopped and the bustle of people getting on and off, distracted Keith from processing the question. Lance raised his eyebrows and added, “Are you?” In a rush of brain activity Keith realized Lance was asking if he was thinking about kissing him. _

_ He was now and he wanted to. A first kiss on the subway isn’t a fairytale start, but so far nothing of this courtship has been conventional. _

_ He leaned in and their noses brushed just as a really loud band started up:  _

_ ‘Para bailar la bamba! _ _  
_ _ Para bailar la bamba se necesita una poca de gracia!’ _

_No lip contact made, Keith whips his head to the side to see he’d failed to notice a mariachi band enter their car. The_ _guitarrón was practically knocking into him as the group enthusiastically played for tips from the other riders._

_ “What kind of timing is that?” growled Keith. _

_ Lance just laughed and said, “Has anyone ever told you, you’re easily frazzled?” _

_ “I am not!” said Keith, feeling his cheeks turn red. At least he isn’t usually. _

_ Lance grabbed him by the scarf and pulled him into a kiss… the best kiss of Keith’s life. _

_ “Don’t worry,” Lance had said right after. “Hot boys like you make me nervous too, but I have another psychic prediction.” _

_ “That’s what?” _

_ “That we’re going to have a future together. Maybe even better than your art career.” _

********

In retrospect, Lance was far more psychic than a fortune cookie. In some ways, Keith could attribute his meteoric rise to the top of the New York art scene by getting his work in front of the right people in the right gallery. Lance would claim it’s fifty percent his prediction and fifty percent Keith’s pure talent. Mostly, Keith likes to give the credit to finding his muse.

It was Lance.

Lance in every sketch, every stroke. Lance, filling his head with dreams, making him see in colours so rich they make his brushes sing.

Keith has never needed much, as Lance would say, he has like two outfits. The only thing he’s ever liked spending money on, besides art supplies, is tattoos and piercings (and he’s running out of the places to put both.) So when Keith started getting cheques for his paintings that had lots of zeros on them, there was only one way he wanted to spend it, by buying Lance his every heart’s desire (and sometimes before his heart even thought to want it.) He’s bought so many designer clothes for a man that prefers to be naked.

His loft/studio has excellent light for painting with all these floor to ceiling windows, but Keith didn’t mind his one room apartment, especially not when Lance started sleeping over. Lance picked out this place and Keith signed the lease, not because he felt like he needed this amount of square footage, but because he knew how happy it would make Lance to be the one to have found it. He’d asked Lance to move in with him before the ink was even dry.

_ “I don’t think I can afford half the rent…” _

_ “You’ll never have to.” _

Keith was, and still is, happy to pay for anything and everything Lance wants. If Lance ever complains that Keith never lets him pay, he just reminds him that he bought dinner on their first date. 

Lance calls Keith his sugar daddy. Keith doesn’t think that’s fair seeing as it’s Lance he’s drawing, Lance he’s painting. His face, his body, his essence are what sparked life into Keith’s work and that’s worth at least half of what his paintings sell for.

“You’re doing it again,” says Lance, cutting into Keith’s thoughts.

“I asked for five minutes, so just wait.”

“That was half an hour ago!”

“It was?” Keith considers looking towards one of the many wall clocks Lance put up while expressly saying, ‘this is so you can keep track of time while painting,’ but he hates looking away from his work. It breaks the spell, which is what Lance is going for. Honestly, it wouldn’t make a difference anyway. It’s not like he’d checked the time when he’d asked for five more minutes.

Keith means to say something along the lines of, ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ but he spots a ruffle in the sheet that he somehow captured the shading wrong. How did that happen? He looks over at Lance.

“You moved.”

“Just my mouth,” says Lance with a pout. “You can’t ask me not to talk for hours on end. We agreed on that compromise.” That and Lance’s Spotify playing in the background to keep him from dying of slow boredom during these long painting sessions.

“Not your mouth,” says Keith. “The sheet is wrinkled completely differently around your crotch area.”

“Oh, that,” says Lance, with an eye roll.

“What’s that?”

“That’s my Frustration Boner,” says Lance, sharply.

A laugh bursts out of Keith before he can clamp it down and ask, “What is a Frustration Boner?”

Lance sighs in the most pissy way possible. “It’s what happens when you promise me you’ll fuck me in five minutes so I get all excited imagining all the rough kinky stuff you’re going to do with me, but then the five minutes pass then five minutes more and it dawns on me that you’re back in your flow state and have completely forgotten about me and my need to be fucked so I just get angrier and more frustrated, but I also haven’t gotten off in days so my boner won’t go away and then slowly the idea of having sex with you when I’m mad at you, starts to get more appealing, which just makes me more frustrated for wanting that and yeah… this is my Frustration Boner. It’s not going anywhere. It pitched a tent, I think it’s staying for the night.”

“Alright,” says Keith, setting down his brush and pallet. “Alright, I see I’ve pushed you to the very edge of your patience.”

“Yeah man!” agrees Lance, wholeheartedly. “For you, patience might mean focus - hyperfocus really - but for me it means muscle cramps and sexual frustration.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” says Keith, getting up and making his way over to the platform he’d set up with cushions and sheets. “You can move now.” He lowers himself on Lance’s lap and kisses him. Lance pushes up to a full sit and kisses him back, then Keith pauses and pulls back.

“Did you just realize you need to pee?” asks Lance.

“I’ll be right back,” says Keith, rolling to get himself up to standing again. “Do you need to go first?” he asks, bouncing on the spot. “You’ve been still for just as long.”

“Oh, I’d love to, but -” Lance gestures to the bulge in the sheet that’s still making him look as modest as possible with a raging hard-on.

“Right, sorry!” says Keith, tripping on a throw pillow as he dashes towards the bathroom. That’s the problem with having this giant open loft, the bathroom is tucked all the way on the other side. “Keep thinking sexy thoughts!” He calls out.

“Yeah, that’s not a problem,” says Lance, sounding annoyed. “I will get the lube and get started.”

“Meet in bed?” asks Keith, halfway to the bathroom, his voice echoing off the far walls.

“No way. You made me this nest and I am fixin’ to dirty up the sheets. Especially since I think our bottom sheet is in here somewhere and I am not making a bed and dealing with corners in this state and - ”

Keith misses the last of Lance’s ramble as he shuts the bathroom door. By the time he gets back, Lance is done talking and on to moaning. He’s lost his modesty sheet and is knuckle deep in his own asshole, preparing himself for Keith.

“Feel that good already?”

Lance just gives him a dirty look in response.

“I’m sorry, baby,” says Keith, stripping off his shirt and tossing it on the floor. “I didn’t mean to make you so desperate.”

Lance frowns and pouts. He’s not convinced.

Keith drops down beside Lance. “I want you too, I swear,” promises Keith. Only Lance. For the rest of their lives. He runs his hand down the curve of Lance’s back and leans in intending to kiss him when suddenly the Spotify song changes:

Loud trumpets blast over the surround sound speakers accompanied by an ear-splitting mariachi yelp!

“Why is this so much louder than the other songs?” yells Keith, over the noise.

“Well, it wouldn’t be mirachi without the volume,” says Lance. “It’s funny this always happens to us.”

“Yeah…,” says Keith, his brain suddenly racing.

“Hey,” says Lance, touching his cheek, “Where are you going?”

_ ‘Yo sé bien que estoy afuera,”  _ croons Jose Alfredo Jimenez over the speakers.

_ “‘ _ Yo sé bien what that look means,” says Lance, darkly.

Keith hadn’t gotten up yet, but he does right after Lance says that.

“Keith?”

But Keith can’t answer, he’s got something stuck in his head and when that happens he’s gotta follow through immediately.

“Oh no, Keith, please don’t go back to painting,” begs Lance.

Keith picks up his paints.

“No! No mixing new colours! You were already finished,” whines Lance. “And you’re going to fuck me now, right? Right?”

“It’ll be worth it,” says Keith, mixing paint.

“For you maybe,” grumbles Lance, “But baby’s horny.”

“Trust me,” says Keith, closing his eyes and imagining the detail he wants to add. He prefers live models and still lifes, but since he has no reference for this, he’s got to make it up in his head. How would the gold look in this light?

*********   
Lance flops down onto his back, groaning in frustration. A lot of good the passive-aggressive noises will do though, when Keith is already back to painting. He was being dramatic about having to wait before, but now he’s actually mad. 

Stupid mariachi band… Lance digs his phone out from the piles of sheets he’s on and pauses the music playing from the speakers. He doesn’t have mariachi on his playlist, but obviously Spotify took it upon itself to kill the mood. To be fair, El Rey is a good song, but it’s not for sexy times.

Maybe Lance can reset the mood properly for sexy times? 

He thoroughly wipes his fingers off on the sheets before scrolling through to find his ‘Gettin’ Busy with Boyfriend’ playlist. Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing starts playing over the speakers. Lance looks to Keith and sees no evidence that he’s even noticed the music change. Lance starts singing along, loudly:

_ “Ooh baby, I'm hot just like an oven _ _  
_ _ I need some lovin' _ _  
_ _ And baby, I can't hold it much longer _ _  
_ _ It's getting stronger and stronger” _

Lance runs his hands up and down his naked body, really feelin’ the music. Despite being mad at Keith, he loves how sexy his boyfriend looks with his shirt off, tattoos exposed. When he concentrates like this, he bites down on his lip ring. Lance loves the way that lip ring feels sucking on his nipples…

Then Keith’s got his own sexy pierced... plugs in his lobes... the bridge piercing... He’s so sexy and badass, Lance has been hooked since the moment he saw him unhooking a comically large scarf from where it got caught on his daith piercing.

Lance’s own body is different, no tats, no piercings. He likes to be a blank canvas as a model. Let people paint their hopes, desires, even nightmares over him. Funny thing is Keith thought Lance would quit nude modeling when money stopped being an issue, be his muse full-time, but Lance loves being around people.

Of course, most of all he loves being around Keith. And being around Keith means holding still a lot, but not right now. The more movement actually, might be better. Especially if Keith is painting his body. Oh yes, Lance will give Keith something pretty to see.

Lance flips over to his stomach, crooning along with Mr. Gaye. He angles his butt towards Keith then slides his fingers down between his cheeks, slick with lube, and rubs against his hole.   
  
“Fuck, I want something bigger than my fingers,” moans Lance. He glances over his shoulder. No reaction from Keith. “Been so long since my papi filled me up so good.” Lance curls his fingers and fuck… that feels crazy good.

Not the point though! He needs to focus on enticing Keith.

“You know I’m mad at you,” hums Lance, “So maybe this time I’d pin you down and ride you. Make a meal out of you. Cum at least twice before I dare climb off of you.”

He looks back again and nothing…

“Seriously?” cries Lance, pulling his fingers out of his ass. “How are you not even the least bit tempted by this IRL body? What's more appealing about painted-me?” Lance rolls to his side then pushes up and stands. He marches towards Keith’s easel.

“No,” says Keith, throwing out a hand. “Stay there!” The other hand is still posed near the canvas. Keith’s gaze is still flicking back and forth.

“I know you hate showing me things until they’re one-hundred percent finished, but I think at this point you need me to tell you it’s one-hundred percent finished alreadly because we are getting this close,” Lance pinches his so they’re nearly touching, “to having a real fight.”

“No, Lance, that is - that’s - that is the last thing I want today.”

“Do you think I don’t notice your brush moving right now?”

“Okayokayokayokay,” sputters Keith quickly, lifting up his brush and holding it up like Lance is threatening him with a gun. “I’m finished. You can look now.”

Lance steps right up to his boyfriend, hooks his hand in the waistband of his jeans and yanks him forward to press against him. He attacks him with kisses. Keith kisses him for half a minute then tries to pull back, mumbling something about how he really wants Lance to look at the painting because the wait was well worth it and it’ll make him very happy.

“Bapbapbapbapbap,” mocks Lance, flapping his hand like a mouth. He tosses Keith’s paintbrush to the side - ignoring the artiste’s wince over the mess and not cleaning his brush properly blah blah blah- grabs him by the hand, and pulls him back to their soon-to-be love nest. “I made some promises about riding you that I intend to keep.”

He pulls Keith down onto the mess of sheets and cushions then rolls him onto his back. He kisses him then works his way down, planting kissing on his neck then continuing on to pause at his nipple and play with the stud there with his tongue.

Keith sighs in reaction, tension melting from his body.

“How you like me now?” mutters Lance.

Keith lifts his head up and says, “I always like you. I love you, baby.”

“Then you gotta show me,” says Lance, planting kisses down his navel.

“You’re all I think about,” moans Keith, running his hand through Lance’s hair, suggesting very strongly that Lance keep moving lower.

“Thoughts show me nothing,” says Lance, undoing Keith’s fly.

“Our whole place is a shrine to how much I think about you,” argues Keith, referring to all his yet-to-be-sold paintings lining the walls of their place.

“You sell me to strangers,” says Lance with a pout. He’s losing some of his fire as he tugs at Keith’s way-too-tight pants, finally getting them over his hip bones and sliding them down until his hard cock springs free. Okay, yeah, being hard is a good start with the apology sex.

“Not this new piece, we’re keeping it for - ah fuck,” whines Keith as Lance licks up his length, “reasons…”

“You like me more than a painting now, don’t ya?” teases Lance as he strokes Keith’s cock.

“Love you more,” corrects Keith.

“Good,” says Lance, moving to straddle Keith’s lap. “That’s a good start.”

He reaches back and takes hold of Keith’s cock, earning him a hiss of pleasure from the possessiveness of the gesture. Lance lines him up and sinks down, taking all of Keith in at once. It feels so amazing, Lance swears he sees stars.

“Aw fuck,” moans Keith. “You feel so fucking good today.”

“I always feel this fucking good,” says Lance, clamping a hand down on each of his boyfriends wrists and pushing them up above his head. “You just miss out.”

“You’re right, baby. You deserve cock on demand.”

This is the right thing to say so Lance rises up then drops down, earning another moan from Keith. “If you’d just let me fuck you while you paint…” Lance begins a nice smooth roll of his hips, working his cock on so nice.

“Then how would I paint you?” asks Keith, his voice a low hum.

“You can paint this ass,” says Lance, releasing one wrist to give his own ass a  _ SMACK. _

“You mean only your ass,” says Keith, using his free hand to give Lance’s cheek a massage.

“Hey,” says Lance, grabbing Keiht’s wrist and pinning it back in place. “I’m still on the fence about whether or not I’m mad at you. Until then, no touchy,” he warns. “I get to have my way with you.”

That’s what Lance does, increasing his pace and bouncing on Keith’s cock and chasing his own pleasure. Damn, that dick is fire. With Keith’s legs still trapped in his too tight pants, he can’t spread them open and take over the fuck. 

Apparently, being restrained really does something to Keith because within a minute, he’s glassy eyed and moaning. Lance feels his hips trying to push up into him and for a moment, he considers denying Keith his orgasm completely. But… Lance is far too kind. A saint really.

He speeds up and rides him roughly until Keith is moaning and trembling beneath him. It’s so satisfying, Keith cumming inside of him and looking so weak, but beautiful below him...

Lance’s orgasm is a monster. He’d been denied so long and needed him so much. He cums, riding his sexy papi until his knees squeeze together, cum dripping all over Keith’s tummy.

“Finally,” sighs Lance, flopping forward and not giving a damn about the mess. He just wants to kiss Keith and give him all the affection.

“Not mad at me then?” asks Keith, running his hands up and down Lance’s arms.

“No,” says Lance, propping himself up on his arms. Wait… sore. Why? Or right. He’d been stucking holding his pose earlier for hours. “Turns out I was just hangry.”

Keith’s eyebrows pinch together. “You’re hungry”

“No, horny angry,” explains Lance. “It still shortens to hangry.”

***************

When Lance moves to get up, Keith slips out of him and he feels the cum drip down his cock. Lance’s ass looks so damn cute as he walks away… towards Keith’s painting.

Oh shit! He needs to be there when he looks!

Keith tries to get up and trips, because his pants are still hugging his thighs. Lance seems completely oblivious to Keith fumbling to get his pants all the way up without catching his balls on his zipper… which he fails at and has to bite down on his yelp.

Thankfully, Lance doesn’t notice as his attention has been grabbed by the window (and he claims Keith spaces out…) so when he does happen to glance back, Keith has managed to make his stride look casual.

“You know what I’ve always wanted?” asks Lance, pressing a palm to the glass. “To get fucked against this glass.”

Keith nearly chokes. Now he has to decide between doing just that  _ or  _ drawing his love’s attention to what he originally wanted to show him.

“Uh, so you’re still… hangry?” So’s Keith honestly… he could go another round for sure.

“A little,” says Lance then he turns and  _ now  _ the painting catches his eye. “Oh…” He abandons the window, leaving hand smudges behind and moves closer and to inspect the artwork.

Okay, so they are officially doing this now…

Keith sits down on his stool and Lance automatically drops into his lap to assume the position they take whenever Lance takes in Keith’s newest work.

“Wow,” says Lance. “Everytime I think you’ve peaked, you find a higher summit.”

“I have the best muse,” says Keith, wrapping his arms tightly around his boyfriends middle. Sticky… why? Oh, right… the cum.

Lance does what he always does and goes through and points out all little details he likes. Keith normally loves this part because it’s the only time his work gets in depth analysis and feedback. Buyers just… buy. He doesn’t even meet these people so Keith never knows what exactly they like about his art. 

This time though, he’s much more anxious as he waits for Lance to notice one detail Keith wants him to see. When Lance fails to notice it, Keith realizes he needs to guide his eye there.

“You sure it’s good?” asks Keith.

“It’s better than good. It’s a masterpiece,” says Lance, dipping his head to plant a kiss on Keith’s bangs.

“I did mess up one part.”

“You always say that and I can never tell.”

“This one is more obvious,” says Keith. “Just look.”

Lance goes silent for a moment then says, “Well… I didn’t want to say anything but you didn’t paint my ass as bootylicious as it is in real life.”

“No, that’s not the problem.” Though not surprised Lance focused on that. “Anything else?”

Lance shakes his head. “I mean I could nitpick if you really want the feedback…”

“Your hand,” says Keith. “I messed up on your hand.”

“You are being too hard on...” Lance falls silent, finally noticing the detail Keith had added. He couldn’t help himself… When that mariachi band interrupted them, Keith just knew he wanted to propose today. “Is that… a ring?” Lance points, finger hovering over the still wet pain.

“Yep.”

“On my left hand?”

“Yep.”

“Ring finger?”

“That’s what it’s named for.”

“I don’t want to ask if it means what I think it means in case I’m wrong and feel like an idiot.”

Keith hugs Lance as tightly as he can, tucking his face against Lance’s shoulder and planting a kiss there. “I wanna draw you and paint you and fuck you and ride the subway with you and go on bad dates with you and live with you and love you forever,” confesses Keith. “I really, really wanna marry you.”

Lance’s hand has been over his mouth during this entire speech as he continues to stare at the painting (one spot in particular.) When he doesn’t immediately say anything, Keith gets worried. 

“That it?” says Lance, finally.

“What?”

“Well, I think you were supposed to phrase it in the form of a question.”

“This isn’t Jeopardy!” barks Keith.

“Yeah, but if you don’t ask anything, I can’t answer.”

“You could just agree with what I said!”

“Like, ditto?”

“Ditto works!”

“Okay,” says Lance, throwing his arms out wide. “Ditto!”

Then the tension breaks as they both burst out laughing. Lance twists around and attacks Keith with kisses.

Keith pulls back. “So we’re engaged.”

“Definitely,” agrees Lance. “Can I see the ring now?”

“...Ring?”

“The ring you’re proposing with.”

Confused, Keith points to the painting.

“Oh, Keith,” sighs Lance, dropping his face down into his hands. “You need to paint the ring that you bought for me on my finger thereby professizing the ‘Yes.’”

“But I didn’t… It was spur of the moment! That mariachi band interrupted us and it reminded me of our first date and our first kiss and it inspired me to propose.”

“El Rey inspired you to propose?!” cries Lance.

“If that’s what that song was called, then yes…”

“El Rey is a classic breakup song!”

“Well, I didn’t know what he was singing, it just reminded me of all the reasons I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“If it’s spur of the moment then how do I know you’re serious?” demands Lance.

Keith laughs, “You better just be hangry-reacting to this…”

Lance chuckles. “I am. I just really want that second orgasm and engagement sex sounds like dynamite sex!”

Keith pushes up to stand, taking Lance with him. He smooches him and says, “I’m taking you to Tiffany’s tomorrow so you can pick out whatever ring you want.”

“Now you’re making me hoppy - that’s horny happy, but it doesn’t work as well as a portmanteau.”

“Now we’re talking.”Keith takes him by the hips and leads him back to the exact same window panel Lance had been teasing him at before.

Lance plants his palms on the window. Keith releases his dick from his pants again. Lance gasps as he enters him again. 

“Can we have breakfast at Tiffany’s too?”

Keith begins to roll his hips as he says, “Love, I think that was just a movie title.”

“Ah - no - ah,” moans Lance. “They put in a cafe there…”

“Then we’ll eat there,” Keith says, then he dips in to nibble at Lance’s earlobe, drawing another sigh from his baby.

“Bet they have windows you could fuck me against too,” says Lance.

Keith resists the temptation to disagree and instead says, “Oh yeah, we’ll freak out everyone on fifth avenue.”

Lance moans, then says, “Same wasps that buy your art. What will they think?”

New thoughts get Keith fucking into Lance quicker. “I’ll tell them you’re my next work of art then paint you with my cum right in front of them.”

Lance wilts from dirty talk, his one hand sliding down the window. Keith grabs it for him and pushes it back up, then steadies him by holding his hips. He loves hitting Lance from behind because his ass has such a nice squish.

“Would you like that, baby?” asks Keith. “Want the whole world to see the real you all dirtied up for my pleasure?”

“Yes, Keith, right there. Keep - ah - keep hitting that spot,” whines Lance. Keith reaches a hand around to stroke Lance’s leaking cock. “And for the love of Banksy don’t stop talking!”

“No more tasteful nude for you,” says Keith, feeling heat pool down low. “Gonna show everyone the little fucktoy you are.”

“Yes, yes, I’m your fucktoy,” moans Lance.

“My pornographic, pin-up boy slut.”

“Fuck,” moans Lance, “Ah -  ¡ Ay ,  papi !”

Keith feels him tighten around his cock as Lance’s cum slicks all over his hand. Keith lets the heat roll over him in waves. His legs shake and he’s not sure he can hold himself up until he slaps a cum-covered hand on the window pane.

“Oops,” says Keith with a laugh.

“It’s like the car scene in Titanic, but with cum instead of steam,” says Lance.

Keith scrunches up his eyebrows. “How was there a car scene in the movie Titanic? Weren’t they on a boat?”

Lance groans his my-boyfriend-doesn’t-know-movies groan. Oh! But now it’s his my-fianc é -doesn’t-know-movie-groan! 

Keith might cry… or break his face smiling, he’s not sure which.

Lance spins in his arms and kisses him, reminding Keith to stop leaning against the window they just fucked against… in broad daylight. Oh boy, he hopes the sun was reflecting just right...

“Now that,” says Lance, nuzzling his nose against Keith’s. “Was your greatest masterpiece.”

“Hmmm” sighs Keith. Then he thinks and says, “Sex, painting, or proposal?”

“Two out of three,” says Lance. “But we can try the proposal again once you have the ring.” Then he ducks out of Keith’s arms and makes a run for it like the brat that he is.

“You get one, Lance!” Keith bellows after him. “One proposal only!”  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Songs:
> 
> Hermoso Cariño - Vicente Fernández  
> La Bamba - Los Lobos  
> El Rey - Jose Alfredo Jimenez  
> Sexual Healing - Marvin Gaye
> 
> Hey! Just a friendly reminder that if you're reading as a guest, consider requesting an ao3 account! Wait times are short right now and when you have a proper account you can subscribe to fic updates. You can also subscribe to your fave authors and get emails when we post!
> 
> If you're interested in requesting a gift work, contact me on twitter @bangbangbeefke1
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> xoxoxBBBK


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